four supports. Claudia knew it consisted of a drive, hyperdrive, andmega-memory.A minicomputer provided guidance and control. It was the mega-memory that heldwhatever secrets had been entrusted to it. At the moment, a maze ofmulticolored wires led from the mega-memory's circuitry to some specializedcrypto equipment, which in turn was linked to the ship's main computer.Blithely ignoring Claudia's pained expression, Chang continued his monologue."I guess she gave our Interceptor jockeys a real run for their money. She wasjust about to go hyper when they threw some light tractors on her. I figuresomebody's got something real important to say, because unlike our convertedjobs, this baby was really designed to carry the mail. Someday we'll figureout how to punch com messages through hyperspace and these suckers will becomeso much scrap.Don't get me wrong though, you can't get anything better than a torp fromTechno. I mean that sucker's built. It took me two hours to defeat theelectromechanical traps, and another three to get around all the stuff hiddenin the programming. Still," he added happily, "I showed those Techno types athing or two."The printer stopped whirring, and Chang ripped off the fax. Proudly he handedit to Claudia. She found herself looking at the words "Wind World," and a longstring of numbers. "There you go, Princess, that's where the torp was headed,and although we haven't broken their message code yet, you'll notice theydidn't try to encode proper names. For example, 'McCade,' and 'Farigo,' appearmore than once. Does that help?"Claudia's face broke into a rare smile. "It certainly does, Lieutenant, no,make that LieutenantCommander, Chang. You've been a very big help indeed! Please feed thosecoordinates to the bridge, and tell Captain Queet I want to reach the WindWorld in record time."Claudia watched Chang as he called the bridge, and neither saw Lady Linnea asshe slipped away on anGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlerrand of her own.FifteenMCCADE HAD NEVER liked hyperspace shifts in general. The whole concept ofleaving normal space for some other reality, which only a few mathematiciansunderstood, bothered him. But to do it without nav beacons seemed especiallystupid. Oh, he'd done it often enough, one didn't have much choice out alongthe frontier, but he didn't like it. He preferred the situation in toward theEmpire, where nav beacons marked all the major trade routes, and were takenfor granted. Once each sixty seconds the beacons automatically shunted fromnormal, to hyperspace, then back. Meanwhile each nav beacon broadcast its owndistinctive signal, thereby marking a proven entry and exit point. It was avery useful system. Unfortunately this was the rim, and one helluva a long wayfrom any trade route, so they weren't going to run into any nav beacons. Ofcourse as long as you had good coordinates you didn't really need a beacon.And they had the coordinates provided by Walker. "Which means we're in goodPage 83ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlshape," the optimistic McCade told himself."Sure," the pessimistic McCade answered, "but Walker was under a lot ofpressure when he sent Rico those coordinates. What if he made a mistake? Whatif he transposed two digits for example? You might come out of hyperspaceright in the middle of a sun... and that could be a tad uncomfortable. So whynot just forget the whole thing and go home?"The discussion was suddenly rendered academic, as the computer cut the ship'shyperdrive, and slippedPegasus into normal space. There was a brief moment of nausea, followed bysubtle changes in all the viewscreens as they switched from simulated to realspace.Rico gave a low whistle. "Well, ol' sport, your friend certainly liked 'emtight."McCade nodded his agreement. They'd come out of hyperspace so close to theplanet they were damned near in orbit. Walker liked them close indeed. Mostpilots considered it prudent to leave a little more leeway, even if it meant aday's travel in normal space. It might be slower, but it was a lot safer.McCade tapped some keys, and the ship's computer obeyed, taking Pegasus downinto a high orbit. He wanted to look things over before trying to put the ship
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